Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tanzania and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Sisters of Mercy to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Tres Demented,
Joensuu 1685,
Masters at Work,
Panda Bear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fugazi,
Skarface,
F. McDonald,
Banda Bassotti,
Flipper,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mark Hollis,
Idris Muhammad,
Kayak,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arab on Radar,
X-Ray Spex,
Theoretical Girls,
CMW,
The Barracudas,
the Slits,
Liliput,
Oneida,
Gabor Szabo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Cale,
Silicon Teens,
Public Enemy,
Joe Smooth,
The Blues Magoos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
Gichy Dan,
Bizarre Inc.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Severed Heads,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Connie Case,
Au Pairs,
Frankie Knuckles,
B.T. Express,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deepchord,
Interpol,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
The Victims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Star Department,
Glenn Branca,
Main Source,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.